His Majesty
by DarthNerd
Summary: The young Phantomhive is tasked with finding a new threat to England, somewhere in the North in Scotland. What the Earl and his butler are unaware of, is the new threat may be harder to remove than they think.
1. Chapter 1: Warning

Ciel Phantomhive sat in his chair gazing out his large window, the carriage with the Queen's messenger passing out of view as Sebastian walked in. The Earl knew there was yet another mission the Queen needed her Guard Dog to do this month, the fourth so far.

"Master," his butler said from behind. Ciel turned and looked up at him, the silver tray in Sebastian's hand with a single white letter placed perfectly in the middle. His butler lowered the tray on the table gently and Ciel snatched it with his hand.

Sebastian watched the young master carefully as he opened it and read to himself. Ciel looked puzzled and read it again, which made Sebastian raise a eyebrow. "Is there something wrong, my lord?"

Ciel remained silent as he carefully read the message again, ignoring his butler. Once he read it, he gently tossed the pages onto the table toward Sebastian, turning his chair to face out the window again as Sebastian read over the message. His face remained expressionless as he read the letter. Only at the end of the third page, scribbled almost like it was a last minute addition, did Sebastian look confused.

"Did the messenger seem odd to you?" Ciel asked, his hands intertwined as he looked at where the carriage was last seen, unconsciously rubbing his ring.

"He was the usual messenger, my lord," Sebastian replied, coming to his master's side. "Whoever wrote the message did it somewhere between the Queen and the messenger."

Ciel nodded in agreement, closing his eyes for a moment. When his eyes opened he had determination in his eyes.

"Tomorrow we will look into the case," the young Earl said mostly to himself.

"And the warning?" His butler asked.

"Whoever the Queen wants out of the chess game," the corner of Ciel's mouth curled up in a small smile, "obviously knows we will be coming. It makes our job that much easier when they come to us."

"Yes, my master," Sebastian smiled slightly as he bowed. "Dinner will be served at six. Will there be anything else?"

"No," the young master said, returning to look at the letters.

Sebastian bowed again, his grin fading as he walked out the door. There was something about the message that concerned him. First, who could have gotten to the letters before they got to the messenger? There were few people who could, and most were not of this world. Secondly, why would anyone want to warn the Earl? He had little to no allies in England's underworld, and even fewer in his social circle which was nonexistent. And thirdly, how _did_ they find out that the Queen would send her Guard Dog all the way to Scotland to deal with them?

Sebastian could only think of one who would take the risk of warning the young master, and he shivered at the thought of running into him again.


	2. Chapter 2: Clumsy

Bard lifted another suitcase up to Finny on the carriage, a grin coming across his face as he looked around. Sebastian was leaving them in charge of the Phantomhive Estate while he and the young master went to Scotland, and each one of them promised to keep it as spotless as humanly possible.

"C'mon," he called, "we have to make sure that's the last of 'em. We don't want the young master not having any clothes when he gets to Scotland, do we?"

Finny hopped down from the carriage, shivering at the thought of Ciel not having anything to wear. And the thought of Sebastian when he found out. "That's the last thing we want to happen."

As they walked to the door, Mey-Rin ran out the door with a load of suitcases piled up to her forehead. She tripped over herself on the first step, and would have fallen right into the carriage if Sebastian hadn't come out of nowhere and caught her. The suitcases pelted Bard and Finny, but they both seemed not too damaged and the suitcases' contents remained inside.

"You should really be more careful," Sebastian said, Mey-Rin still in his arms. Her face was flushed as she stared up at him, unable to say anything.

"Sebastian," Ciel called from the door and everyone looked up at the young master, Bard and Finny straightening to attention. The Earl's eyes were targeted at the butler, demanding a explanation.

Sebastian's smile made Mey-Rin melt in his arms a little, "simply a accident, my lord," he said as he stood her up.

"It was my fault!" Mey-Rin quickly said, "I was carrying too much and-"

"It's fine," Ciel put up his hand, "just don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir," she bowed.

"Is everything ready?" Ciel asked his butler, brushing past him to the carriage.

"Yes, my lord," he replied as he opened the door for him.

"Then we should have been going already," the young Earl closed the carriage door behind him, staring out the other side's window. He had been acting like this all morning, and Sebastian wondered if Ciel came to the same conclusion as he did.

Sebastian went through everything again with the three, all of them nodding quickly. "Leave it to us!" Bard said proudly, "the place won't even be recognizable when you get back it'll be so clean." Finny and Mey-Rin nodded agreeing, with big smiles on all their faces. Deep down in the pit of his stomach, Sebastian felt like he would have more work when he got back than in Scotland.

After he got up onto the driver's seat, Mey-Rin, Finny and Bard waved as Sebastian cracked the whip. The carriage lurched forward as the horses started pulling the young master and his butler to Scotland. Or, at least, to the train station. It would take a day or so to get to Edinburgh, and Sebastian hoped the young master would take the opportunity to relax before they arrived.


	3. Chapter 3: Derailed

"Master…" Sebastian's soft voice woke Ciel up as they neared Edinburgh, nearly ten o'clock at night. Ciel looked at his butler hazily. "Good evening, my lord," he said, pouring some tea into a cup. Ciel dozed off faster than Sebastian thought he would, which gave him time to study the files about their target. And prepare some tea when the young master woke up.

Ciel took a few sips, looking more awake as he relaxed into his seat. For a minute or two it was quiet as Ciel drank his tea, Sebastian sitting in front of him watching quietly.

"Do you think we will run into the one who wrote the warning?" The young Earl asked suddenly, not looking up from his cup.

"It would be sensible for him to follow us," his butler replied. Ciel stared at his cup and Sebastian continued, "I have also studied the documents from the Queen about the abductions and murders. They appear to be randomly chosen, but there is one feature of the murders that appeared out of place."

"Which is?" Ciel asked quietly, though he had already read the reports and knew.

"None of them had any signs of injuries," Sebastian said with a sigh, which caught Ciel's attention. He looked up from the cup and saw the grim expression on Sebastian's face. He knew something that Ciel didn't.

"What are you not telling me?" Ciel demanded, suddenly irritated that Sebastian found something and did not tell him.

Before he could answer the train suddenly started braking, sending their luggage flying everywhere. Sebastian was over the young master instantly, protectively covering Ciel before the first large bag hit him, hitting his butler in the back instead. Ciel stared up at the butler as the last of his luggage hit Sebastian, who simply looked back down at him, unaffected.

"Please excuse me," Sebastian said while he was still over Ciel, "I must have a chat with the engineer. This is simply no way to drive a train."

The Earl rolled his eyes as his butler shifted his way through the cluttered floor, closing and locking the Earl inside his room. If Sebastian's suspicions were correct, the young master was in grave danger.

People were starting to pile into the cramped aisle of their train car, trying to figure out what had happened. Sebastian sighed, getting irritated by how pushy everyone was and how inconsiderate they were. He suddenly stopped and listened, hearing the yelling from the car ahead of him. There were screams as gunfire started coming from the forward cars, everyone taking cover as they ran to the back cars. Everyone but the tall butler, who was heading in the opposite direction towards the gunfire.

He already had his kitchen knives out when the thugs burst through the door to the car, and before they could get a clear look at him they were dead. Sebastian looked into the next car that once held two families and six or so men and women. What was left were the bodies of the men and women, gunned down where they sat. The children however, were missing. It was clear that whoever the Queen wanted gone knew of their mission, as the thugs were only taking the children.

It was also clear they wanted the young master alive, which only seemed to solidify Sebastian's growing fear of who, or more precisely, _what_ the target was. Leaving the car, Sebastian went back to his master.

"What happened?" Ciel demanded as the butler walked in and locked the door behind him.

"I am afraid that our target is aware of our intent, and has kidnapped the train's children." Ciel's eyes widened in shock. The Earl knew the target must have influence to be noticed by the Queen, but how much influence does he truly have? Quickly taking control of his shock, Ciel knew what had to be done.

"Sebastian," Ciel said as he took off his eye patch, revealing the mark of their demonic contract. "I order you to rescue those children!"

Sebastian bowed with a wicked smile on his face, "yes, my master."


	4. Chapter 4: Arrested

Sebastian watched the automobiles for a few moments from atop the train. They had three cars and a large covered truck, no doubt where the children were being kept. They were moving slow since the roads were so curving and Sebastian saw an opportunity spot to intercept them. With flawless agility he jumped down from the train car and ran with incredible speed towards the spot, a cliff with a sheer drop into the North Sea.

Sebastian ran through fields of sheep, jumping over some that wandered into his path more than once. They _baa_ed at him as he ran by. Still visible from the train, the onlookers gawked in amazement as the trail of dust cut through the large herd of sheep, splitting the herd in two straight through the middle.

Like he predicted, the first car passed the spot. He had seconds before the truck would pass it, and as he added a little more speed he saw the top of the truck. With split-second timing, as the road below the cliff leveled with the land, Sebastian jumped up and drove his feet into the passenger-side window. The force of the impact sent both the stunned passenger, the driver and the driver's door down into the North Sea.

Sebastian jerked the steering wheel back left before they drove off the cliff, and the crying in the back confirmed he had the children. Now it was only a matter of getting them back.

The front and both back cars finally came out of their shock from seeing their two partners fly out of the truck, and were now closing in on him. Sebastian grunted as the back car rammed into the truck, though it had little effect. They were in small cars, and Sebastian had a large truck. Grinning evilly as he stared at the front car's rear-view mirror, his eyes turned demonic. His foot pressed on the accelerator, sending dark smoke bellowing out the truck's exhaust to get their attention.

The driver was too focused on the butler's eyes that he slowly started to veer off of the road. The splash that followed finally sent the message, and the rear cars backed off.

As Sebastian steered the truck onto the dirt road, all the train's passengers were standing huddled together in one spot being questioned by the police. All but one, standing alone off to the side. The young master was staring angrily up at a police officer, and only glanced at the truck as Sebastian parked it by the police carriages.

Ciel's more angry than normal expression concerned the butler greatly. The Earl has never shown much respect for London's police force, but they knew they could do nothing about him. These were not London police officers, however, but Edinburgh police. They _could_ do something about him.

Sebastian got out of the truck as Ciel made a pointing gesture towards him. The officer put a hand firmly on the Earl's shoulder as they started walking towards him, and Sebastian bristled with anger. Ciel batted the hand away, but the police officer did not take it lightly.

"Unhand me!" Ciel yelled as he was arrested. "Sebastian!"

The butler took three steps until he was surrounded by police, some with guns pointed at him. He watched helplessly as the Earl was handcuffed and dragged into a police carriage. Sebastian was cuffed as well, and put in the same carriage with the young, and rather angry, master.


	5. Chapter 5: Introduced

Ciel sat on the stone bench, quietly smoldering with anger. He had said nothing since they were arrested, and ever since they got thrown into the dungeon he has had his arms crossed over his chest, staring blankly at the tip of his shoes. Sebastian has kept a wary eye on the other inmates, in case any got a sudden urge to take advantage of the young master.

After the second inmate's arm was broken, they kept their distance from the unusual pair.

Sebastian's eyes darted to the approaching guards, the second time they have come and warned the butler to stop breaking the inmates' arms.

"You two," the guard said, his voice gruff. He unlocked the cell door and gestured towards Ciel and Sebastian, "you're free to go."

Ciel stood up stiffly and Sebastian walked behind him, glancing at the inmates one last time. They took a step back against the wall as they watched him with a mixture of fear and hatred.

The young master stopped at the front desk of the dungeon, the police officer glancing up at him. "Where may we find our luggage?" Sebastian asked.

"They are waiting with your carriage," a voice said before the officer could even process what the butler said. The pair turned to look at a medium sized butler with blonde hair. He looked at Sebastian straight in the eye, then down at the still smoldering Earl.

"Lord Varvossa is awaiting your arrival."

"Lord Varvossa?" Ciel wondered aloud. He had never heard of such a name before, and curiosity replaced his anger. "Who is he?"

"All in due time, young Phantomhive," the butler said while bowing and gesturing towards the door. Sebastian looked down at the young master and frowned slightly as he started to walk, taking only a few strides until he was once again at his master's side. This was clearly a trap for no one knew they were traveling to Edinburgh, but the young master must have a plan to walk knowingly into it. It had been dusk when they arrived at the dungeons, and now it was well into the evening hours as they rode in the carriage.

Sebastian only hoped the Earl had put the pieces together already and knew of their target's special nature, and what they were truly walking into as the carriage came to a halt in front of a large castle on the outskirts of Edinburgh. It had been a short trip, but the young master had fallen asleep on the way. The lurch from the sudden stop woke him up and he gazed out the window at the castle. It looked mystique but dark, with only a few windows showing candle light.

The blonde butler opened the carriage door for them and Ciel was the first out, followed by Sebastian. "The lord wishes you are rested before he greets his honored guest," he said while other servants gathered the luggage, "we have separate rooms prepared-"

"We need only one," Sebastian cut in. The butlers looked at each other.

"It would be dishonoring if you declined his lord's wishes," the blonde butler said a little too warningly.

"Where I go, Sebastian follows," the young Earl said with a sharp glance at the blonde butler.

Hesitantly, he bowed. "Very well."

That night, after putting the young master to bed, Sebastian watched over the room. He felt something dark in the castle, something powerful. It's malevolence stained every inch of the castle and filled the air. This was no doubt where their target was, and Sebastian finally knew what they were up against.


	6. Chapter 6: The Set Up

The blonde butler, named Carter, delivered the silver tray to Ciel, placing it in front of the starving Earl. Carter lifted the lid and the smell of the dish made the young Earl salivate, a dish that was so close to Sebastian's flavorful dishes that for a moment he thought Sebastian _did_ make this. But the butler has been at his side for every moment since they arrived at the castle.

"Lord Varvossa will be joining you in a few moments," Carter said, "will there be anything else?"

Ciel waved the butler away and Carter bowed, leaving without a word. After a minute the Earl took a fork full of the food and stared at it, "do you think it's poisoned?" He asked Sebastian.

The butler raised a eyebrow slightly at the young Master, "there is no reason for them to poison you." Sebastian worried for the thousandth time that his Master did not know what this Lord Varvossa was, and that Ciel unknowingly walked into the lion's den.

"And how would you know?" Ciel said with a hint of anger. "They attacked a _train_ to stop us from reaching Edinburgh."

"They tried to capture you alive," Sebastian reminded him, a small smile coming across his face. Even with the danger, the young Master's arrogance always amused Sebastian. "I am afraid I don't see the sense in capturing you simply to poison you, Master."

Ciel turned and glared at the butler, only causing him to smile a little bigger. He was about to say something to him, but Sebastian's smile faded as a cold chill suddenly filled the room, making the Earl shiver and causing the candles to blow out. It was such a chill that it went straight to his bones. The butler's face was unreadable as he stared straight forward.

"Ah, the young Phantomhive," a voice said from across the medium sized dining table. The Earl turned back to face the Count of this castle, but as he squinted to see him the only thing visible was half his midsection lit by the moonlight. Ciel did not hear him come in, or even when he sat down.

"It is dishonoring to your guest to not announce yourself," Ciel said with his elbows on the chair's arms and his hands intertwined in front of him, his one eye fixed on where he thought his face was. The Count was wearing pitch black garments that made him seem like a dark shadow, but the royal purple balanced the black.

A toothy white grin appeared from his concealed face and if Ciel did not know better, he thought he saw fangs. "Indeed it is, my apologies."

"I am Count Varvossa Bodgan," he said with his grin, "born, 1425. Died, 1458."

Ciel's eyes widened as Varvossa's eyes turned demonic, which appeared to float just above his grin. They were turned a darker shade than normal by his glasses, which had royal purple tinted lenses. The shocked Earl looked up at Sebastian, and his eyes had turned demonic as well in the presence of another demon. Varvossa leaned forward into the rays of the moonlight, and Ciel stared at his devilish eyes.

"Why," Varvossa said a little disappointed and frowning, "I am disappointed in you for not telling him sooner, Sebastian. Are you not supposed to protect him? Or has that rule lost its essence in these last few centuries?"

"You would be surprised by how stubborn he can be," Sebastian said with a sly smirk.

Ciel blinked and looked at Sebastian, ignoring the other demon. "Yes, I can see that," Varvossa said as he studied the Earl.

"Sebastian! Explain yourself!" Ciel demanded. He always hated when everyone ignored him.

"It is quite simple, young Phantomhive," Varvossa cut in. "You were set up."


	7. Chapter 7: A Demon's Agenda

Ciel gazed out the carriage's windows as it made its way to Edinburgh, his eyes looking out the window but his mind a million miles away. He still did not believe what Varvossa told them, but Sebastian seemed to believe what the demon had said.

According to Varvossa, the young Master was set up by the grim reapers. Since a demon eats the soul of a individual, there is no soul to collect when the person dies. Varvossa has had a stroke of luck lately with contracts, and because of his luck there have been few souls to collect by the reapers. Normally, according to Sebastian, reapers don't mind missing a soul now and then since that is what demons survive on. Apparently, Varvossa's five contracts last month were one too many for Scotland's reapers.

Sebastian was more than willing to say the case was of unimportance now and that they return, that this was between the demon and the grim reapers of Scotland. Ciel was unconvinced though, and as they arrived at the hotel the Earl took a deep breath of fresh air. The air in the castle was heavy with oppression and a kind of chill, a almost dead feeling creeping at the edges of his consciousness. He refused to stay there, and so they went to the hotel that they were originally staying at.

That night they traveled the streets in search of anything suspicious. There was the usual peddlers and homeless, but no sign of any murderer that left without a mark on its victims.

"Master, we should get back," Sebastian said quietly from behind, leaning forward a little. "It is getting late."

There was a familiar giggle from behind Sebastian and his stomach churned.

"The sooner the kid gets to bed," Grell said in his seductive fashion that he always used when talking about Sebastian, "the sooner you're off duty and the sooner we can, you know." He winked and Sebastian grimaced, even though he didn't see it.

Ciel turned sharply and glared at the reaper who was smiling with a toothy grin, his hand on his hip.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Ciel demanded, not nearly as annoyed as his butler was. Grell grabbed Sebastian's arm and leaned his head on his shoulder, making a almost _purr_.

"Where ever my Sebastian, goes, _I_ go~" Sebastian groaned silently as Grell leaned more on him. "And Will sent me to check if you got rid of that demon yet," Grell added like it was not important, gazing longingly at Sebastian.

"So the grim reapers _did_ set us up," Ciel muttered angrily at his butler. What kind of thanks is that for rescuing a Cinematic Record from the angel Angela?

Grell raised a eyebrow at the Earl, "set up? Now see here!" He let go of Sebastian and faced Ciel, "I go through the trouble of warning you to be careful, and you start blaming _us_ for the demon's fake letters! The _nerve!_"

Ciel and Sebastian gave each other a quick suspicious glance. _Demon's fake letters?_

"The demon told us the grim reapers of Scotland sent the letters so we would dispose of him for them," Sebastian explained. Grell had steam come out of his head.

Grell stormed back and forth in a rage, the news that the demon accused the grim reapers of the fake letters hitting a sensitive nerve in the reaper. Ciel watched him cautiously, but after the first five minutes he became bored of him.

"Sebastian, we shall be paying Lord Varvossa a visit tomorrow afternoon," Ciel said and Grell stopped mid stomp.

"Yes, my Master," the butler said as he bowed. The pair turned and started walking away, but Grell called after them.

"I am going with you," Grell stated as he walked up, "that demon accused reapers of something they could handle themselves… I will _not_ let him get away with it."

Sebastian was about to protest, but Ciel spoke first. "Very well," he smirked at the butler, "Sebastian would absolutely _love_ your company and help."

The butler looked down at the young Master unhappily. "Yes, my Lord," he said reluctantly. Grell's face lit up and he ran up to Sebastian, but fell on his face after the demon dodged his tackle. He recovered from his fall quickly and held Sebastian's ankle, purring in delight.

"Grell!" Ciel said in a assertive tone and the reaper perked up. "We will meet at the crossroads to Varvossa's castle tomorrow before dusk. Until then, unhand Sebastian!" Despite the young Lord's small stature, he had a commanding presence that always surprised the reaper.

Grell stood up and dusted himself off. "Fine." Grell took out a Cinematic Record and checked something. "I have a few to collect, anyway."

The reaper grinned, and with a snap he closed the book and stuffed it back into his coat. He looked at Sebastian, winked, and blew a kiss. "See you tomorrow, _Bassy_."


	8. Chapter 8: The Red Knight

"Sebastian…" Ciel began as they waited for Grell at the crossroad. The butler raised a eyebrow at the Earl. "Are demons supposed to own their own castle?" He asked as he gazed at the looming castle in the distance. Even from this far, he felt the dead essence creeping around the edge of his mind.

"There are different types of demons, my Lord," Sebastian explained. "Are you familiar with the tale of Count Vlad Dracula?"

"No…" Ciel admitted.

Sebastian nodded understandingly. It was not a happy tale, and surely not one for a twelve-year-old. "Dracula was once a man, but he sold his soul and became a demon early in his life. He had a insatiable appetite, and because of this his mind became twisted and demented." The butler leaned down to the young Master and smiled wickedly. "Do you know what they called him?"

Ciel shook his head, staring straight back into the demon's eyes.

"Vlad the Impaler. He would impale his enemies on spikes, and leave them still alive for days until they begged him to make a contract to end their misery."

"What became of him?" Ciel asked, a slight hint of disgust in his tone.

"No one knows," Grell said from behind Ciel before Sebastian could say, Grell's voice ominous, "some say he still lives. Maybe he lives in that castle?" Ciel turned and glared at the reaper, angry at his attempt to scare him.

"Varvossa is not Vlad," Sebastian said.

"How do you know?"

"I have met Dracula before."

Grell and Ciel looked at the butler quizzically. There was still so much Ciel did not know about his butler, though part of the Earl preferred not knowing.

"Enough of these stories," Ciel said. He looked at Grell and then Sebastian. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, my Master," Sebastian bowed.

"He'll regret the day he used us for his purposes!" Grell turned on his Death Scythe, revving the motored chainsaw flirtatiously at Sebastian. Sebastian looked at the reaper out of the corner of his eye, quietly sighing at the fact that the young Master had agreed to allow him to accompany them. He was an unnecessary nuisance, one that Sebastian could live without.

Ciel began walking down the road to the castle, his butler and the scarlet reaper following close behind. They were an odd sight to say the least, though there were no other travelers on the road to notice. In fact, there were fewer and fewer forest sounds as they neared the castle; the beautiful songbirds were replaced by crows; the trees that were flourishing and green a minute ago, were now dried and dead ghosts; the road itself, a decent cobblestone path, now a dirt road.

The three looked around cautiously as they walked. Grell shivered as a ice cold wind blew down the road from the direction of the castle, as if the castle had let out a chilling sigh. He seemed to be the only one affected, Ciel and Sebastian too busy watching the glowing eyes in the darkened bushes to notice the cold.

Grell squinted at a set of eyes, seeing the outline of the wolf. "Wolves?" Grell wondered aloud.

Sebastian frowned a little. He hated dogs, and there were too few differences between dogs and wolves for him. The wolves merely watched them as they walked, their glowing yellow eyes floating in the darkness. When they turned the bend, the road was filled with growling wolves of different colors. Within the middle of the pack stood Varvossa, a tall, shadowy figure with a different royal purple outfit on.

"I was not expecting you back so soon," he said over the suddenly softer growls. Varvossa glanced at Grell and frowned. "And you brought company…?" He sniffed the air a little and retracted a little. "A grim reaper? Why do you _mingle _with such a creature, Sebastian?" His voice spat out the word, as if it was poison.

"Is it true that you forged those fake letters?" Ciel demanded. Varvossa looked at him, even through his glasses his demonic eyes were burning a hole through the young Master's head. It sent chills through him.

"Indeed, it is true," he admitted. "I heard of the incident with the Angel and," he smirked lightly, "I had to meet the demon and the child that defeated her. It's not every day something like that happens, and I am honored to meet you." Varvossa bowed to Sebastian first, then bowed at Ciel.

"I helped them!" Grell said after Varvossa did not bow to him. Varvossa looked at Grell doubtfully.

"I doubt you were much help, Grell Sutcliff."

Grell stared at Varvossa. A suddenly dark shadow covered Grell's face, and the grip on his Death Scythe tightened. Without warning, his chainsaw revved to life and he charged at the demon.

"Grell!" Ciel yelled after him but, as he stepped forward, Sebastian's hand shot out and firmly held the Earl back.

"_This is not our fight, Master_."


	9. Chapter 9: Overreacted

Grell swung his Death Scythe in a large arch, slicing the attacking wolves in two. They vanished like smoke in the breeze. The wolves were simply a illusion to frighten people so they stayed away from the castle, and now Grell knew they could not hurt him. Varvossa was still a few yards away and Grell charged at him again, hanging his Death Scythe low, so it bit into the dirt road for affect. Before the last second, he raised the chainsaw high and-

Varvossa smirked. With a lightning fast move to the left he dodged the reaper, then a split second passed before his heel made contact with Grell's back, sending him hard onto the dirt road. Grell laid there dazed, and Varvossa walked over to the butler and his master.

"Please forgive Grell," Sebastian said, staring in mild disgust at the reaper as he started to get to his knees, "he has been known to overreact…"

"It is of no matter. Though I request you do not bring a grim reaper to my castle without my consent." Varvossa looked down at the young Master, his demonic eyes turning back into their natural dark chocolate brown behind his purple glasses. Ciel was about to say something, but his gazed focused on something behind the Count.

Even without the suddenly shocked expression on Ciel's face, warning of something behind him, Varvossa would have heard Grell a mile away with his constant revving of that infernal Death Scythe. Sebastian grabbed his Master by the collar of his coat and yanked him back as Varvossa dodged Grell's '_sneak'_ attack, the teeth of the Scythe a hair's length from the Earl's face.

"Stop this, Grell!" Sebastian demanded, but Grell continued to swing his Death Scythe at Varvossa. Every time Varvossa dodged Grell's attack he became more enraged, and his attacks became more predictable. Soon, they were within the dead forest, fighting to what seemed like death, Grell's chainsaw slicing the dead trees apart like they were butter.

"Hold still," Grell commanded as he effortlessly dodged Varvossa's kick and spun with his Scythe, barely missing Varvossa's chest. "I need to fix your face!"

"Perhaps you should look in the mirror first," Varvossa replied and jumped backward. He landed perfectly on a branch ten feet above. Grell gasped at the insult and steam poured out of his nose.

"How dareyou say _that_ to a woman!" Grell jumped up to a branch a few trees in front of Varvossa. "Where are your manners?"

"Grell! Stop this madness!" Ciel yelled up to him. Even though he was a nuisance most of the time, he had helped them more than once. Grell did not even look down at the boy, and with a rev of his Scythe he jumped off the branch at Varvossa.

Ciel took off his eye patch and looked at Sebastian. "Sebastian. I order you to stop Grell before Varvossa _kills_ him."

Sebastian kneeled on one knee before the young Earl, slightly irritated, with his hand over his chest.

"Yes, my Master."


	10. Chapter 10: Showdown

Varvossa sighed. "Will you not end this madness?" He asked Grell as they continued to fight, the scarlet Reaper showing no signs of stopping. Grell was unaware of Sebastian's approach, but Varvossa had caught a glimpse of the young Master's butler as Grell sliced away at the Count. He was indeed quite stealthy, but he appeared irritated, and thus careless in his actions. His mind wandered for a moment on that thought. How long has Sebastian had a contract with Ciel to make him so careless with his emotions?

Grell's Death Scythe finally met its target in his moment of thought; Varvossa took a step back, surprised at himself for letting his guard down. He looked down at his arm, the black coat darkening as his blood trickled from his wound. It felt like centuries since he was wounded last, the memory of that night dark and painful.

Without hesitation Grell sliced again at the dazed Count. As the Scythe moved downward for the final blow, Sebastian tackled Grell to the ground and the Death Scythe missed Varvossa by inches. The Scythe was thrown out of Grell's grasp, and Sebastian held the Reaper's wrists to the ground, and his legs tightly held his hips. Grell looked taken aback until he realized Sebastian was sitting on him, pinning him down like a dog.

"Oh, you _wolf_ you," Grell's eyes sparkled at the butler. "Such a dominating presence! Hold me down harder, say you'll never let me go~!"

"Please stop…"

As Grell continued to rave about Sebastian, he was silenced with the sudden revving of the Death Scythe. Sebastian and Grell looked up to see Varvossa holding the Scythe above Grell's head. Grell panicked and tried to get away, but Sebastian held him down with a vise grip.

"I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!" Grell pleaded. "Not the-"

"_Enough!_"

Everyone looked at Ciel. The young Earl stood there in all his small, but still commanding, stature. "Leave him."

Varvossa looked down at Grell, who was still silently pleading, and huffed. "I gain nothing from killing this wretched Reaper."

He flung the Scythe into a boulder near Grell's head, sending a tingle of fear through the Reaper at how close it struck from his face. Varvossa smirked and mumbled something inaudible, then let go. Without another word Varvossa walked away towards his castle. As he walked, a pair of shadows appeared by his sides. Within another second, they solidified into wolves. Sebastian watched the demon leave, still unsure of the Count's true motives.

"Sebastian," Ciel said, "get off him. We are leaving."

The young Master did not wait for his butler and walked back to the road. Sebastian glared at Grell one last time before he got off, quickly catching up with the Earl. Grell smiled at himself; the feel of Sebastian on top of him sent shivers up and down his back. He got up, grabbed the handle of the chainsaw with a grin, and yanked. His grin faded.

Grell yanked again with both hands, but it remained in the stone. He peered at the rock and his glasses fell down his nose as he stared at what Varvossa had wedged the Scythe into. It appeared to be any other rock, but scribbled in Celtic were three sentences. The letters appeared to be burnt into the rock, as if lightning had struck the rock and written them.

"_Death in destruction,_

_Darkness in perfection,_

_Locked forever in isolation."_

Grell read the poem aloud and wondered what it meant. He sat there until the sun rose, staring at the Scythe, Varvossa's castle behind it as if mocking him. If there was a way to get the Scythe out of the rock, the only one who would know is Varvossa.

Sighing, Grell stood up and grabbed the handle of the Scythe. He pulled with all his strength, his face flushing as the boulder started to slowly move. Grell collapsed onto the rock next to the Scythe exhausted, his eyes closing for a moment's rest. His eyes opened slightly, and he noticed the rock had moved a foot.


	11. Chapter 11: The Scythe In The Stone

Ciel drank some of his tea, sipping lightly at the hot liquid. There was little sleep to be had since the confrontation with Varvossa, a creeping feeling at the back of his young neck. He had dark visions every time he closed his eyes. Nightmarish creatures that had no name, places that reaped of death and darkness.

"Master?" Sebastian asked, concern in his voice. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes…" Ciel replied half-heartedly.

"I spoke with the hotel manager…" Sebastian said.

"And? When is the next train to London?" Ciel asked, a sparkle of hope that they would be leaving soon. He needed to get away from Scotland, get in his own bed and sleep in peace.

"Monday."

Ciel frowned slightly. It was Friday. That meant they would be stuck in Edinburgh for another three days. The young Earl sighed and sank in his chair, his uncovered eye closing. A moment later his face relaxed, Ciel unable to stay awake. His butler sighed at him. He hated when the young Master would over work himself, but this tiredness was not from over working. Something was troubling him, and being the Phantomhive's butler, it was Sebastian's duty to find out what.

Before he left Sebastian covered the Earl with a blanket, not wanting him to catch a cold. As he gently tucked the blanket around the Earl, a strand of hair fell over his face. The corner of Sebastian's mouth curled into a small smile as he moved the hair off of the young Master's face, Ciel shifting to find a comfier position in his chair. Sebastian left without a sound.

Not wanting to be noticed, Sebastian walked to the crossroads. The butler looked around cautiously, but saw nobody around. There was a moment of hesitation in Sebastian. However, the young Master's troubled mind would be something that would haunt them where ever they went. It needed to be dealt with at the source.

A dust stormed trailed behind Sebastian as he ran down the road to Varvossa's castle. His mind was on the shadow that surrounded Varvossa when, out of the corner of his gaze, he saw a flash of red.

"_Was that Grell pulling a rock?_" Sebastian thought. He shook his head, not wanting to know. Ciel needed him.

Sebastian got to the castle easily and quickly, and as his fingers were about to wrap around the door's wolf-like head knocker, the door swung open. Standing there was Varvossa, in yet another different black and royal purple outfit.

"If it isn't the Angel Slayer," Varvossa said, though he did not sound surprised. "It is an honor as always, though I'm curious to know where the young Earl is?"

"My Master has been having trouble getting rest." Sebastian watched the demon closely. "And I have a sense it has something to do with you."

"But of course it does," Varvossa grinned and Sebastian saw the large canines in the demons mouth. "Come in."

"As I am sure you have sensed, this castle and the property around it bleed oppression and malice," Varvossa led the butler through some of the dark halls of the castle as he talked. "It is a trick of mine which I learned long ago."

"What is the purpose?" Sebastian asked.

"Isolation." Varvossa looked at the butler like he was about to start to explain a long story, but the Count caught himself. "It keeps the peddlers and travelers away, and it sticks with them for a week."

Sebastian frowned at the thought of the sleepless week the Master will have. He is less cooperative when he is tired. "Is there a way to lessen the effect?"

"No," Varvossa replied. "My apologies."

The demons had made their way back to the front door while they talked. Varvossa went to the door, and opened it before Grell knocked. He fell onto the floor in front of Sebastian.

"Where ever did you find him?" Varvossa asked. "He follows you like a trained dog."

Sebastian noticed Grell's Scythe in a rock, which laid in front of Varvossa's castle. "Did you carry that?"

"He… Put…" Grell gasped for air, taking a minute to catch his breath. "He put my Scythe in a cursed rock!"

"My my," Varvossa said as he walked around the rock. "I thought the Reapers had _some_ knowledge of simple linking spells. I suppose they don't train them like they used to."

"Now see here!" Grell said as he walked to Varvossa. "I was the _top_ of my class!"

"I meant no offense." Varvossa mumbled something near the rock, then yanked the Scythe out with little effort. He handed it to Grell. "I was simply having a laugh."

Grell snatched the Scythe and huffed. "Next time put someone _else's_ Scythe in the rock!"

"But of course," Varvossa grinned and bowed, "my apologies."


	12. Chapter 12: Farewell

Varvossa looked out of the carriage's window. His face was expressionless, but his eyes darted from one thing to the next as the world passed by. It was the first time in what felt like forever since the Count walked the streets of Edinburgh. Now, on the day of the young Phantomhive's departure, Varvossa once again looked upon the people of this enchanting, yet dark city. He wondered how many of them would sell their souls to him for some pathetic desire they had.

Endless riches.

Power.

The occasional desire for destruction.

They were all as common in people's hearts as flowers are in a meadow.

Yet in the most rare cases, they simply wanted to take vengeance on those who wronged them but could not on their own. Those just causes were the most savoring of all souls. They were pure, but driven with the fuel of anger and agony. Varvossa could see a pure soul in the young Master. However, he felt Sebastian deserved such a soul. The more he saw of the pair and how they functioned together, the more he admired Sebastian's tolerance and willingness to do every little whim for the young boy. Most demons would not put up with such a brat, not even for a soul as pure and flavorful as his.

The carriage lurched and a moment later Carter opened the door, allowing Varvossa to walk out into the dim evening hours. Before them stood the hotel where Ciel and Sebastian were staying. Carter left to see if they had left yet, and returned in time for the Earl's carriage to pull up next to Varvossa's.

"The train leaves within the hour," Carter said.

They waited by the carriage until Sebastian walked out, arms and hands full of luggage. He noticed the pair and raised a eyebrow at the demon.

"Carter," Varvossa said as he looked back at the butler, slightly leaning forward on his antique walking stick.

"Yes, my Count." The Count's butler walked over and took some of the suitcases from Sebastian, taking them to the Earl's carriage. Ciel walked out from the hotel's entrance and in his tired state, took a moment to recognize Carter and Varvossa.

"Sebastian can handle the luggage," Ciel muttered as he watched Carter.

"Please, it is the least I can do for the effects of the curse."

"Yes…" Ciel looked at Varvossa, his uncovered eye looking tired, but still angry. "Sebastian explained it to me."

"I am curious, though." Varvossa raised a eyebrow at the Earl. "Why is Carter immune to the curse?"

"Quite observant," the Count smiled. His smile faded as he looked at the Master, his mind recalling that dark, bloody night. He blinked and took out his watch, and the corner of his mouth curled into a small smile.

"I am afraid that will have to wait. You have a train to catch."

"He is right, Master." Sebastian gave the Count a quick glance before he left to check on the carriage.

"I must say," Varvossa began as he watched Sebastian closely, "you were lucky to find such a docile demon."

Ciel looked at Varvossa, then at Sebastian. "You have not known him as long as I have…"

"True." Varvossa looked down and smirked at the Earl. The Earl looked ruffled at the Count's constant smirking. There was something Varvossa was hiding, but Ciel was too tired to even think straight.

Varvossa moved the curtain to the side, gazing at the smoke in the distance as it trailed above the tree line. It's destination was London, to the South. He wondered what London was like now, and what kind of Empire Great Britain had grown into. A saddened smile crossed his face. There was nothing there for him, much like there was nothing in this castle for him anymore. Before he turned away, his gaze lowered to the courtyard at Carter and the boulder Grell's Scythe was in. Carter lifted the half ton piece of solid rock, and threw it into the forest as if it were a pebble. Crows took to the air as it crashed into the dead forest, some fifty yards away.


End file.
